Stronger than Mountains, Brighter than Gold
by Ema'Bee
Summary: A young woman finds herself on a journey, not just to help her companions find their homeland and birthright, but to discover her own.
1. Chapter 1

On a cool spring day in April, with mist and fog still shrouding the trees, the last thing Ainne wanted to be doing was scaling a tree.

She had gone for an innocent hike in the mountains of Inverness, relishing the fact that it wasn't raining, although it couldn't fairly be called a sunny day. Having spent all her life in this town, she wasn't a stranger to the hiking paths, and it was to her utter astonishment that a few hours in she was completely lost. The trees were terribly dense, and there was a small dark pond that she didn't recognize surrounded by stones of various size and shape, all ringed by the trees.

Knowing the rules of being lost in the woods like the back of her hand, she had plopped down on the nearest stump and waited for rescue. But it wasn't long before she jumped up and decided to take her rescue in her own hands. She thought if she could see over the tree line, she would be able to spot the town and head in the correct direction, even if she couldn't find the path again. She figured she couldn't have gone _that_ far in just one morning!

Which was how she found herself halfway up a tree, half soaked as the dew from the leaves soaked into her lightweight hiking clothing. She squinted upward, trying to gauge how she was going to reach the next branch. She had picked the tallest tree she could find, but it was making upward progress difficult. The branches were far apart from one another, and she wasn't terribly tall in the first place.

As she was contemplating the branch above her, she heard a deafening _CRACK!_ She screamed as the branch she was standing on fell out from beneath her and she went plummeting to the ground. Instead of hitting the ground, though, she fell right into the small pond, the impact of the water making her world go instantly black.

* * *

Ainne woke groggily, peering through squinted eyes at a bright ray of sunlight coming through the window. She grew very still as she looked at the window, noticing immediately that she was not in her own bed in her own room, but in a place that was completely unrecognizable. She shot up into a sitting position, looking around wildly, her heart thumping in her chest. What had happened? She gripped her head in her hands, willing herself to remember something, anything that would shed light on her current predicament. The last thing she remembered was…well, she was having a hard time thinking through the haze of sleep. She swung her legs to the side of the cot she had been lying on, cursing as her head started to swim and her damp clothes stuck to her uncomfortably.

Damp…clothes…._wait a second_, she thought to herself in confusion, _why am I all wet?_ All of a sudden, a memory of deep, dark water swept through her mind, and panic welled up in her. "What is going on?" she whispered to herself.

Then, the sounds of a kitchen in use reached her ears. Warily, she stood up, using the walls and furniture to help keep her propped up. She walked on tiptoe slowly to the door of the small room she was in, and tried to breathe as quietly as possible. As she made it to the hallway, the sounds of pots clanging stopped, and she strained to hear what was going on in the other part of the strange house. Suddenly, a man appeared in the doorway in front of her, delicate china cups in one hand, a steaming kettle in the other.

"Ah, you're awake! Would you care for tea?"

Ainne screamed and began wildly backpedaling. In response to this startling action, the man also screamed, cups and kettle going flying as he startled back through the doorway. Catching her foot on a small wooden chest, Ainne tumbled backwards into the wall, upsetting a bookcase that crashed as books and glass landed in a broken heap on the floor. She landed hard on her hands on the floor, hissing as several pieces of glass pierced her skin.

"Oh my, oh my goodness! Everything will be alright, please calm down!" the man pleaded with her, wringing his hands helplessly as he watched the hallway collapse in chaos.

"Where am I? And who are you?" Ainne said furiously, fear and pain making her shake. Plus, her head was still swimming alarmingly. When she laid eyes on the small man, she thought she had seen bare feet poking out from the hems of his pants that were most certainly not normal.

"Why, how rude of me! No wonder you're so startled, I haven't even introduced myself. Forgive me, my lady, I am Bilbo Baggins, and this is Bag End."

Ainne stared at him blankly. "That…that means nothing to me. Bag End? Is that somewhere in Scotland? How did I get here?"

It was Bilbo's turn to look blankly at her. "Scotland? No, my dear, this is Hobbiton, in the Shire. Do you not remember coming here? I found you by the lakeshore, sopping wet and asleep, and brought you here to recover."

Ainne blinked. "The Shire? Like, England? I don't remember going swimming, in a lake of all places…" She clutched her head in her hands again, willing any memory, any memory at all to come back to her. Last thing she remembered, she'd decided to take advantage of pleasant weather by going for a hike. How had she ended up in a lake?

Bilbo began to look very uncomfortable, and looked behind him as if to look for reinforcements for the crazy girl sitting in his hallway amidst papers and broken glass. Ainne almost began to feel sorry for him, because for all she knew she WAS crazy. He certainly didn't seem the kidnapping type, and appeared at the moment to be far more afraid of her than she was of him. Besides, she thought, he's not much bigger than me. Worst case scenario, I could probably take him down if I need to. With that thought making her feel a little better, she gingerly stood and held out her hands in an age old gesture of good will.

"I'm sorry about your bookshelf. And your cups," she added as she noticed the fragmented remains between her and the small man. "I don't care much for tea, but would you by chance have coffee or hot chocolate?"

Bilbo contemplated, and then said brightly, "I don't know what coffee is, or chocolate, but I do have warm milk and honey."

Ainne found herself staring again, then shook herself and accepted. Bilbo eyed her hands, then said, "But let's fix you up first. You're hands look a dreadful mess."

Sitting down in the offered chair, Ainne stared numbly at the dining table and considered her options.

One, she had been kidnapped and held captive by a crazy small man, who seemed intent on plying her with a hot beverage and determinedly kept up a steady stream of small talk, probably to keep her from distracted from destroying more of his home.

Two, she had somehow been deposited in a world where ordinary folk had never heard of Scotland, England, coffee, or chocolate. This train of thought led her to a third, far more probable conclusion.

"I think I've gone crazy," she said matter-of-fact to the man who called himself Bilbo as he headed towards the table with two steaming cups of milk and a handful of linens. At her words, he slowed, sat himself as far away as possible at the table, and nervously pushed her cup of milk towards her.

"Well, you don't look crazy to me," he said kindly, though he was back to nervously flapping his hands. The poor man was probably terrified of her now, she thought, feeling somewhat badly. No matter the state of her sanity, Mr. Baggins had been nothing but courteous to her, and how had she thanked him? By trashing his home and scaring the socks off him. Speaking of socks…she peeked under the table and eyed his feet. They were far too large for a normal man, let alone one of his size, and covered in thick hair.

"What's wrong with your feet?" she asked, belatedly realizing how rude she sounded. Bilbo looked even more startled, if that was possible, but then relaxed and smiled. "Why, I'm a hobbit. We don't get out of the Shire often. What are you?" he asked curiously, looking her up and down.

Ainne found herself, once again, staring. "A hobbit?" she asked incredulously. "You're a….a hobbit? And what do you mean, what am I? I'm a human!" Bilbo looked at her like she'd grown a second head, which only confused her more. He was the one who was the oddity, not her!

"A human?" he asked skeptically. "Pardon my confusion, it's just that most humans are, you know…" he trailed off, putting his hand way above his ahead and looking at her with significance.

"No, I don't know," she said crossly. "You expect me to believe you're a hobbit, but you question me when I say I'm a human. This doesn't make any sense!" she wailed. Bilbo had gone back to the fluttering, but then remembered the bandages and desperately tried to change the subject.

"Your hands! Here, let me…" he practically leapt over the table and set to work on cleaning and wrapping her hands with the linen scraps. He babbled an apology to her, trying desperately to appease her. "I'm so sorry, of course if you say you are a human, then that is what you are. You are just the smallest human I've ever heard of, that's all."

Ainne sniffed. "I'm hardly that small," she said, though secretly she had always been self-conscious about her short stature. It wasn't that she was tall in any way, but she wasn't so short that she would be mistaken for anything but human!

Bilbo finished tying off the bandages, then stood back a little ways to admire his handiwork. Ainne made a sudden decision, and stood up. "Thank you, Mr. Baggins, for your hospitality, but I really must be going." Where, she wasn't sure, but she was hoping when she got outside she might recognize the landscape or at least a landmark. Bilbo looked upset again, but politely showed her the front door and asked if she might at least take a quick packed lunch.

* * *

A few hours later, a completely bewildered Ainne found herself knocking on the door she had left earlier in the day. When Bilbo answered the door, he took one look at her and ushered her inside.

"You know," he said conversationally, "I don't believe I caught your name earlier….?"

"Ainne," she said, accepting the offered cup of tea out of politeness. "Would it be a terrible imposition if I were to stay here for a little while? It would seem I have nowhere else to go."

"Nonsense!" Bilbo said brightly. "I'll have the guest room ready for accommodation faster than you can blink!"

For the next few weeks, Ainne dedicated herself to finding out as much as possible about this strange world in which she found herself. For after wandering for hours around Hobbiton, she had finally accepted that she was no longer in Kansas anymore, so to speak, or even on the same world that she called home. Bilbo wasn't an aberration after all, but the norm in this town. And every time she inquired about directions back to Inverness, or anywhere in the UK at all for that matter, she was met with looks of confusion and even outright suspicion.

Bilbo owned quite a collection of books, maps, and other texts that she devoured in an effort to learn more about this place she was being forced to call home. After realizing that she had an inquisitive streak as wide as his own, the two quickly formed a friendship. Once she had exhausted the supply of books at Bag End, Bilbo pointed her in the direction of the library at town hall. Though it mostly contained records of the Shire and the hobbits that lived there – actual hobbits! – there were some works that concerned affairs of other races; namely humans, elves, and dwarves.

It was on one such trip back from the town hall that her newfound quiet existence at Bag End was changed for good.


	2. Chapter 2

Ainne was walking the path back to Bag End from the town hall when she saw a large group of men pressed up against Bilbo's door, accompanied by a giant. She stopped dead in her tracks and ran off the path to hide behind the nearest hedge. She didn't recall Bilbo saying that he had been expecting visitors. As she peeked around the bush, she saw the door open and the entire company, minus the giant, tumbled through the doorway.

Only after they all entered the house and closed the door did she muster up the courage to make her way to the front door herself. She could hear shouting, laughing, and the sounds of general chaos coming from inside. Hoping against hope that this was some plan of Bilbo's, she eased the front door open, and slipped inside. The outrageous and raucous laughter and clanging was coming from the kitchen and dining room, and she heard Bilbo arguing with someone in the atrium. Relieved that he was still alive and well enough to defend his mother's pottery dishes, she snuck through the parlor to the other side of the room and peaked around the doorway to see what in heaven's name was going on.

A plate whizzed by her face, and she yelped and jumped back in surprise. Astonished, she scurried out into the hall and caught full wind of what was happening. Several men were tossing plates to each other from the atrium to the kitchen, banging cutlery against tables in rhythm, and was that someone playing a flute in the dining room? They were all singing, spinning and whirling around, and generally turning Bilbo's quiet home into chaos. She shrieked as someone bumped into her, knocking her against the wall, and she ducked as a bowl went flying over her head. Someone else glanced off her, and she shrieked again as someone spun her around and grabbed her by her arms, righting her as she nearly fell over. She looked up right into a face full of dark eyes and laughter.

"Apologies, lass. Kili, at your service," he said with a small bow, letting go of her.

"Er – " was all Ainne managed before he had already whirled away again to rejoin the crazy dish-throwing silverware-banging dance that was taking place. She desperately looked around for Bilbo, and with some small measure of relief standing next to the tall giant of a man. She hustled over to him quickly.

"Bilbo! What on earth is going on in here?" she exclaimed, edging back towards the relative safety of the parlor while eying the giant. He was easily the tallest person she had ever seen, towering heads and shoulders above her and Bilbo.

"I haven't the slightest idea, but – HEY, BE CAREFUL WITH THAT!" And with that, Bilbo raced off to the kitchen without another word to her.

Ainne looked at the giant warily. "I don't suppose you would care to explain?" she asked hesitantly.

The giant looked at her thoughtfully. "You know, I don't think we've met. I'm Gandalf," he said kindly, "Gandalf the Grey."

Ainne blinked. "So _you're_ the Gandalf who had Bilbo all fired up this morning?" she asked in surprise.

Gandalf laughed heartily. "I am," he said agreeably. "Bilbo has sat comfortable in his home for far too long, it is long past time he had a little adventure." He looked at her curiously. "Tell me, my dear, how did Bilbo come about having a fairy as a guest in his home?"

Ainne blinked again at his words. "Pardon me, but _what did you just call me_?" she said hotly.

At that exact moment, someone knocked loudly on the door. The room immediately grew quiet and still. Gandalf looked around at the group and said with calm expectation, "He is here."

As Gandalf and the group went to answer the door, Ainne hung around in the back waiting for Bilbo. As he walked by, she whispered, "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," he sputtered, "but have you seen the pantry? I just don't understand what all these dwarves are doing in my house!"

_Dwarves_? she thought to herself as she followed Bilbo to the door. They certainly didn't match the picture of dwarves that she had in her mind, though it certainly explained the outrageous beards and hair.

Gandalf opened the door to let in a tall man – or dwarf, rather – with long dark hair and beard. He didn't look very aged, middle aged at the oldest, but as he glanced around the faces inside, she thought his eyes looked terribly old. He made a small comment to Gandalf about a mark on the door, which set Bilbo off again, and then Gandalf went about introductions.

"Bilbo Baggins, allow me to introduce the leader of our company, Thorin Oakenshield."

Ainne peered around the line of dwarves in the parlor on tiptoe as Thorin began grilling Bilbo about his abilities to fight. There was one shorter grey haired dwarf in front of her, but when she caught glance of the taller, much scarier dwarf beside him, she slunk back again. How could _dwarves_ be so blasted tall and scary? Weren't they supposed to be small and, well, not scary?

Suddenly, Thorin headed straight towards the parlor, and the group followed suit. She scooted to the wall, allowing the group to pass and praying none of them would notice her, and sure enough Thorin did little more than glance at her as he walked by.

As the group settled more or less quietly in the dining room and Thorin was given soup and drink, Ainne followed Gandalf, still upset about what he had called her earlier. Why did everyone have such a hard time believing that she was human? She was perfectly normal! As Bilbo went to fetch more candles at Gandalf's request, Ainne zoned out a little while the group exchanged news and caught up with one another. The dwarves still made her nervous, so she hovered around the doorway, unsure about how welcome she would be with the strangers but too intrigued to outright leave.

The dwarf she had met earlier – Kili, he had called himself – sat in the back in the shadows, talking quietly to another young looking dwarf with golden hair and braids in his beard. Kili was the only one out of the whole bunch without braids and beard, she mused, and she wondered if that was significant or not in dwarven culture. She had hardly noticed that Bilbo had come back until she heard him mention a dragon.

Now, that was enough to get her paying attention. She paid attention with new fascination as a small, timid looking dwarf jumped up and boasted outrageously about how he could take down the dragon singlehandedly. As the dwarf next to him pulled him back to his chair in exasperation, the oldest, most grandfatherly looking dwarf scolded him and the group gently.

The young golden haired dwarf replied hotly, "We may be few in number, but we're fighters, all of us, to the last dwarf!"

"And you forget, we have a wizard in our company! Gandalf must have killed hundreds of dragons in his time!" Kili exclaimed excitedly.

As Gandalf self-consciously hemmed and hawed about the exact number, the group began yelling out at one another loudly, and Ainne flinched back as Thorin stood up and roared to quiet the group down. Everyone settled as he began to talk and make plans with the group to steal back this mountain and treasure that seemed so important to them, when the dwarves began to make pointed remarks towards Bilbo about needing a burglar.

"I'm not a burglar!" he said defensively. "I've never stolen a thing in my life!"

The grandfatherly dwarf shook his head and said, "I have to agree with Mr. Baggins, then. He is hardly burglar material."

When the tall, scary dwarf began making disparaging remarks about wimpy hobbits needing protection – at which point Ainne began feeling very indignant in Bilbo's defense herself –

"Enough! If I say Bilbo Baggins is a burglar, then a burglar he is! Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet; in fact, they can pass unseen by most if they choose. And while the dragon is accustomed to the smell of dwarf, the scent of hobbit is all but unknown to him which gives us a distinct advantage. You asked me to find the fourteenth member of this company, and I've chosen Mr. Baggins There's a lot more to him than appearances suggest and he's got a great deal more to offer than any of you know…including himself. You must trust me on this."

Thorin looked at Gandalf calmly, and then gave his agreement.

"And besides," Gandalf continued, "we have a fairy on our side."

Everyone stared at Gandalf, and suddenly all eyes were on Ainne. Bilbo looked at her in an almost hurt way, as if she had kept a great secret from him. She nearly fell off her stool in her haste to negate Gandalf's statement.

"Look, I don't know where you got your ideas about me, but I can assure you that they are false!" she said angrily.

"A fairy?" Thorin said thoughtfully, slowly stroking his beard. "That would be helpful indeed, if it were true."

"Helpful beyond measure, actually," Gandalf added. "A fairy's natural abilities might prove handy when faced with, say, dragon fire." He smiled at her as everyone gave her looks ranging from respect to awestruck.

"I am _not_ a fairy!" she sputtered. "Fairies aren't even real, this is just nonsense! I'm just a regular human girl!" When everyone looked at her like she had grown an extra head, she felt like screaming. Suddenly, Gandalf reached down, grabbed something from the fireplace, and tossed it right at her. Before she could even think, she reflexively caught it in both hands and looked down. When she saw that she was holding a red-hot burning coal in her hands, she did scream as she flung it away from herself. The dwarf closest to her jumped up quickly as it landed right in his lap, knocking his chair backwards in his attempt to not catch on fire. All the dwarves were shouting at one another again, but Gandalf just looked at her quietly and knowing. She stared back at him, then looked slowly down at her hands that were perfectly normal and not even remotely burnt. The dwarf's pants, in the meanwhile, were still smoking in a charred spot where the coal had landed.

She was dumbstruck. As long as she had held onto the burning coal, her hands should have been hamburger meat. She reached down to grab the coal off the floor, certain it was a trick. Her hands were still perfectly fine, while the dwarf's pants were still smoldering. Looking back up at Gandalf, hands still held in front of her, she became very dizzy and hot.

"I – I don't…." she stammered, and suddenly everything went black.

* * *

When Ainne awoke, she was laying on a couch in the study. Gandalf stood over her, as well as Bilbo. He looked worse for the wear himself, and she felt just as bad for him. She looked up at Gandalf, and sighed.

"I'm listening," she said shakily. "Tell me why you think I'm a – a fairy."

Gandalf puffed a bit on his pipe and sat quietly for a moment. Ainne looked at Bilbo, who gave her a reassuring pat on the back and went off in the direction of his bedroom.

Finally, Gandalf spoke. "Well, for one thing, my dear, you look like one of the fae."

Ainne looked at him in disbelief. "How do you figure? Last time I checked, I'm not tiny and fluttering around with wings."

Gandalf chuckled, and leaned forward. "Be that as it may, simple process of elimination would have led me to the same conclusion. You are far too small to be human or elf, too petite to be a hobbit, and not hairy enough to be a dwarf."

She reluctantly smiled at that. "Besides," he continued, "all fae-children are blessed with a certain amount of control over the elements. The coal was a risky test, but one that you passed thoroughly in no uncertain terms. If you were just a simple girl, holding fire would have had a very different outcome." He looked at her intently. "I imagine that you are not native to this world. The fae left this land long ago; very few are left and those who are do not frequent hobbit holes."

Ainne took a deep breath. Here was a person that maybe she could talk to, and not think her crazy.

"Look, I'm not saying that I'm, um, a fairy. Regardless of that little stunt you pulled back there. But, I am definitely not from this world. I fell through a lake somehow and ended up in the Shire, where Bilbo found me." She eyed Gandalf intently, waiting for him to laugh or see about throwing her in whatever served for the loony bin in this world.

But to his credit, Gandalf did neither of those things. Instead, he looked at her thoughtfully, and continued. "What of your parents? What are they like?" he asked.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "I don't know, I was adopted," she said crossly, knowing that she was only strengthening his argument for him. "But I do know that they were perfectly normal human beings, because that's what everyone from my world is – perfectly normal human beings! There aren't just magical creatures flittering about, they aren't _real_. Just stories and myths."

"So, a fae-child who does not believe in the fae crossed the line from world to another, quite by accident. Do I have that right?" Ainne nodded, choosing to ignore the bit about her being a fae-child. "How very curious," he went on, looking at her as if she were a puzzle he couldn't quite piece together. "I cannot pretend to have the answers to this riddle, my dear, but there are those who might. If any can help you, it would be the elves. And, as it may be, our company shall be headed towards Rivendell. Thorin too has questions that need to be answered, though I'm afraid his stubbornness exceeds his good sense at times." Gandalf through a highly disgruntled look towards the parlor.

Ainne's mind was racing. "Rivendell?" she asked curiously. "The elven city? I've read about it in Bilbo's books. Do you really think they might have answers as to why I'm here?"

Gandalf smiled kindly at her. "If there are answers to be found, that is where they would be."

"Do you think anyone would mind me, you know, tagging along?" she asked uncertainly.

"Well, now," Gandalf said slowly, puffing a few times on his pipe, "that is an excellent question. Would Thorin Oakenshield be overfond of a young woman joining his quest, one that has little to offer and much risk in protecting? I think not."

Ainne frowned, her feelings more than a little hurt. "I'm sorry, I suppose that was a foolish question –"

Gandalf cut her off. "I think, however, that Thorin would more than welcome a fae girl with dominion over the elements, particularly fire. That would make any risk worthwhile."

"So, you want me to trick that group of dwarves into thinking I'm a fairy?" Ainne said slowly, thinking about all the horrible ways that could end badly. But…if it got her to Rivendell…

"If that is how you must view it, then yes," Gandalf said somewhat reproachfully. "Though whether or not you believe you are tricking them into believing something false, there is one undeniable truth: you can withstand the element of fire, and Thorin will find that a priceless gift, regardless of what you call yourself."

Ainne chewed over his words for a moment, then stood up. She had made up her mind. "I would like to join you, if I can. Even if that means offering up what little skills I have to offer. And I wouldn't mind learning, you know, other things. Like how to fight," she added quickly. "I'd hate to be a burden."

Gandalf did laugh now. "Ah, it never fails to surprise me," he said with a smile, "the courage of the small things in life."

She smiled back, still feeling a little awkward, and followed Gandalf as he led them into the parlor to join the dwarves.

The dwarves were all spread out among the parlor, some sprawled in chairs, others standing around. Thorin was in front of the fireplace, staring into the fire. Almost all were smoking on pipes, and a pleasant smelling haze filled the air. Ainne found an out of the way stool to curl up on, and she leaned against the wall. It had been quite the exciting night, and she found that she was suddenly exhausted. Looking around the room sleepily, she studied the dwarves.

Thorin was clearly the leader of the group. He wasn't the oldest, but he wasn't the youngest either. There was just something about the way he stood, the set of his shoulders, the very air about him that screamed authority.

Most of the other dwarves appeared much older, from the scary, tall dwarf to the grandfatherly small one. All had long beards with various braids, curls, and other adornments. Ainne wondered what it was that drove them to be here, following Thorin to the dragon's treasure. She had only half-paid attention after Thorin arrived, figuring that it wasn't any of her business.

Kili and the golden haired dwarf were obviously much younger than the others. They had been together all night, and Ainne wondered if they were related. They were quite handsome, she thought, though the thought made her blush. The golden haired one had a handsome face, and a nice mouth, but it was the dark haired one that really caught her eye. Kili, he had called himself. She studied his face in the firelight. Unlike earlier, he looked absolutely serious, and the shadows played on his face making him look even darker.

Ainne's eyes were growing heavy when she noticed the humming resonating in the room. She jumped a little when Thorin started singing softly, breaking the quiet, but relaxed as the other dwarves joined in the song. It sounded sad, she thought, as she made herself more comfortable on the stool. She fell asleep listening to the dwarves sing.


End file.
